Burning
by CheeseVampire
Summary: The stars were laughing at him. Their once merry twinkle had turned into a mocking burn, pushing against the heavy darkness that surrounded them, as if trying to reach his broken body. Angst like whoa.


**Please let met know if you find any errors! This is my first fic (well, that I'm publishing on here), so I'll apologise in advance.**

**I may write a sequel – not sure yet.**

Disclamier: I don't own Young Justice. 

The stars were laughing at him. Their once merry twinkle had turned into a mocking burn, pushing against the heavy darkness that surrounded them, as if trying to reach his broken body.

Hazy eyes stared back at them, a dull blue visible through broken lenses.

Once upon a time, he would laughingly - defiantly – have declared war on anything that dared look down on him. Even the stars.

He had been a determined (stubborn, young, naive, a voice whispered) child. He had thought himself invincible, safe as long as his mentors heavy cape was within distance. He had shown everybody, everybody who had thought he was weak and easily preyed upon. He had showed them.

He had been the first.

If he could, he would have laughed bitterly.

The ground was cold and hard. Unforgiving in its reproach. Like Wally.

No. Don't go there.

He could not feel his legs. His side was burning, sending spikes of pain through his nervous system. His left arm had been dislocated, bone was trying to pierce skin. He was trying to avoid thinking about his right. He had a split lip and a gash on his forehead, dripping crimson blood down unto the ground. He was pretty sure that he had a concussion.

But he could not feel his legs.

He was supposed to get out in time. To _get away _from the explosion, to _not _get hurt, he couldn't _afford _to get hurt, not when Bruce was _away _and _he_ was upholding the mantle of Batman_. _

Not when there was the mission to think about. Not when the lives of Artemis and Kaldur were at stake.

(Artemis, fiery, hot tempered, amazing. She came back, she wanted to help them, _help him_, and he almost cries when she says yes. He had missed her so much, and she understands him like only another _non-meta _(Gothamite) could. Brave Kaldur, who lost so much but stayed strong. Who willingly sacrificed himself, to go undercover (_so deep_) and stay there for years. He wasn't ready, he still needed Kaldur's guidance, his calm voice and steady hand. _He was not ready-_)

He wonders why the world is not tinted by grey. Then he remembers that the lenses are still broken, and that some of the shards pierced the skin around his eyes. It hurts to blink. He is lucky he was not blinded.

He tries to breathe normally.

He should have gotten out in time.

He does not know how long he lying there, watching the edges of his sight turn dark. It could have been a minute, it could have been an hour.

He decides that he does not care, and allows himself to lament in the fact that he is a _failure, _he can't handle this, it's too much-

(Tim is looking at him like he had just invented bread and discovered the cure to cancer, his camera clutched in his wiry hands. His smile is brilliant, so brilliant that he can almost ignore the stars above him. Jason - rash, beautiful, _alive_ - is laughing at him, a bucket in his hands that used to be filled with ice cubes and water, and he can not help but laugh, too.)

He tries to smile, and only succeeds in making his split lip bleed again. He misses them, he misses them so much. But Jason is gone (_dead dead dead), _and Tim is back at the manor (homework, it's a school night, you can only watch from the monitor).

And it _hurts _so much, he almost can't stand it.

Was Timmy still listening in, when everything went up in flames? He can't remember.

He wants to be thirteen again, back when everything was so uncomplicated, back when the team was new and hopeful and Wally wasn't looking at him with contempt in his eyes, blaming him for everything that's happening. He misses his best friend, has missed him for a long time.

(Wally's eyes are green, shimmering with mischief and laughter, as they try to sneak past Alfreds higly competent ears. It's dark outside, and they've been playing videogames for far longer than they should have (they can feel Alfred's dissaproval resonate through the mansion), and they are _hungry. _He knows for a fact, that Alfred has been baking enough cookies to supply a small army (or a speedster), so they decide to take the chance and go for it. If they get discovered, maybe Wally could speed them out of there, or-)

If Tim (Timmy, Timbo, Robin) had gone to bed, then he could only wait for the darkness to claim him. His comm. unit is useless, and he can't reach the emergency button on the inside of his glove (his arms are broken, smashed, cracked, burned, _useless so useless_).

He tries to wriggle his toes. Nothing.

Barbara would probably know what to do. But Batgirl is on a mission, she's not in Gotham, and he just _can't think_.

A telepathic link would be usefull now, he thinks weakly. (Usefull, useless. To be of use.)

(Miss M. had really improved in the kitchen – her cookies almost rivaled Alfred's. Beast Boy always wanted to help, but he really did more harm than good. M'gann found it endearing, so she would just laugh (her laugh almost made up for the harsh lines around her mouth, the innocence she lost a long time ago). Connor would observe the two of them from a distance away, eyes wistful and sad. He knows that Superboy tries to hide it, but to him it's clear as day because he feels the same way. Wally is too far gone and he can't catch him, never really could-)

He wants his parents. But they're dead, he can see them in his mind's eye; their bodies contorted in ways that should not be possible, bleeding out on the ground. Eyes blank.

He wants Bruce. He wants to disappear in his arms, to be told that everything will be all right. It's all just one big nightmare, you'll wake up soon.

But Bruce hasn't hugged him in a long time. Maybe because he was trying to convince himself that his eldest son has grown up – he probably doesn't want hugs (he needs Bruce's hugs, he needs Bruce to _come back_, because he can't handle it anymore-).

His vision is fading, and he is almost sure that this is the last time he will see the (mocking, burning) stars.

Before he dissapears into the void completely, a panicked face appears in his line of sight (he would know those freckles anywhere, even if they are almost completely faded). He can make out the yellow of his Kid Flash getup, hear the reassurances, the panic threatening to overwhelm his voice.

Dick smiles because his best friend in the world is there, and he will make sure that he is safe (because Wally is Dick's best friend, and even though they are at odds with each other at the moment, he can always count on him.)

He should have known that Tim wouldn't leave the monitors.


End file.
